Children of an idle brain
by Svadi Gillason
Summary: This is a one-shot for Alan Wake and thus will not be a sequel! This is my first story! Please review and rate and enjoy!


Children of an Idle Brain  
By Svadi Gillason

You have several options laid out to you, even after you've started reading. But, I'd advise you to close this and never open it again.  
If your still reading, then there is nothing I can do but offer the truth.  
Nothing is as it seems, and every state of mind is questionable. No one is safe and nobody is truly sane.  
I was an ordinary guy before everything fell into the trouble I've found myself in. I was carefree and careless; the only thing to worry about was the next word I print on paper.  
My name is Alan Wake. I'm a writer. Everything was just words to me before legends turn into stories, urban myths evolved into bright new installments.  
But this was far from my capabilities.

My wife, Alice, was in all depths my muse. Something about her made these words leap into stories that the world could learn of my bliss.  
Then, it all changed in the course of a week. I'd been out too late, drunken and foolish. I hadn't put a single sentence to works in months, which lead to the alcohol.  
Alice was furious, immediately trying to set me straight. I knew she meant well; that I should listen. But I didn't. The booze made me more fiery than I had ever wished to be.  
I screamed at her, venting everything I had pent up for such a long time. I froze, then realizing I had stepped over the line by a good mile.  
It was the first time I had yelled at Alice. She took it worse than I did.

She began to cry in front of me, sobbing between her fingers pressed against her face. I reached out to her, trying to reason with her and make her see that it was all my fault.  
She jeered back, eyes and cheeks red and stained. Her beauty now marred in terror.  
"Your not the Alan I married five years ago. Your nothing but a shadow of the kind man I fell in love with!" She cried, her voice cracking with hysteria.  
I had tried to seek, but the words melted away, boiling to break free but draining to someplace worse off.  
I bowed my head, my eyes stinging as I felt shame and defeat roll over me. She was right. She always was.  
The week passed on in silence, carving a hole in what we had prior. I'd given up drinking, even with the ache to return.

I had finally started writing again, but beyond what I had done before. Instead of what people expected, I'd twisted myself into the roles darkly.  
In the story, I am both the protagonist and the antagonist.  
On one end, I'm fighting for my life and fighting for redemption, past sins splashing against the sands of the pains I had to fend against to fight the one thing that stood in my way. The enemy that had my face. That had Alice.  
On the other, I was Scratch, a dark and evil man who was everything that I was trying to be. He was malicious and sadistic, the way he moved it all. He wanted my life, and he was willing to make me suffer to get it.  
He was a killer and his target was me. To become me.

The story was almost finished, but a key element was left unfinished. A questioned undefined that would leave people confused. Scratch sought me, yet I push back nominally. That meant my weakness could be...  
"Exactly." I heard myself speak, almost rejoice-fully. I jumped back and up, before looking at something born from the loins of my own imagination  
He wore my face pleasantly, I, however, was terrified. In the dimly lit room, his attire flashed that of elegance, though shrouded in a veil of dark. His features were distorted in a blur of shadows, but I could tell he was grinning.  
I screamed into the air and attempted the desperate. In the story, he could only be harmed by light! Throwing open a drawer, I'd pluck a flashlight from it and attempt to turn it on. The light could save me! It had to!  
Scratch chuckled, the dark laugh causing me to hurry, to panic, knowing the laugh was almost my own.  
Suddenly, the flashlight hit the floor, as Scratch looked at me like I was nothing but a plaything in his way, but a toy to amuse himself.

"She's mine now, Alan. She'll always belong to the one she loves," Scratch mused, stepping on the flashlight as I dove for it. I immediately crawled back, sinking my spine against the wall as I tried to cope. I curled up into a ball, rocking on the ground as I searched for air to breathe, but found nothing but pain bursting into my lungs.

And then, the world lit up like a flare, exploding brilliantly in white and red. I began screaming again, my hands up as I ducked my head to my knees.

"Alan?! Alan, why are you screaming?!" Alice cried, rushing to my side. As soon as she touched me, I jumped back into wall panting as if I'd ran a mile.

"He has you! You chose him!" I spouted, knowing the nonsense but denying the truth.

"Who-"

"He'll kill you! Then me!"

"Alan, we need to get to a doctor. Dr. Hartman can help you."

"He doesn't know! Why did you choose him?!"

"Alan! What are you talking about?"

I began shivering, looking for any acceptance, where all I found was confusion.

"Scratch. He-He looks like me. He wants-" It was trying to com out , but only choked on terror.

Alice scowled, before releasing a long exhale. Leaving the room, I'd hear gentle clicks in the background. What was she doing?

"Doctor Hartman?..Yes, it's come back up." Her voice was nervous and shaken, but unsurprised.

"No. An old one... Yes, Scratch." The name sent a shiver throughout my skin.

"No. He woke up fine, but ended up working again, then started screaming. Can you fix him again? My husband is on the way home."

My eyes went wild as I whimpered, I knew exactly what was wrong.

"And now, she's mine..." Scratch whispered.  
And then, I screamed once again.


End file.
